


The 6th Sun

by bunnyfication



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyfication/pseuds/bunnyfication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes one is far too late to stop the world from ending. Then again, perhaps that's not so bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 6th Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Originally done for the 7thnight_smut in 2009. The prompt was: " _Stranger in a foreign country. One of them is going to study the other culture. (Preferably something tribal.)_ "  
> Lots of thanks for [](http://kispexi2.livejournal.com/profile)[**kispexi2**](http://kispexi2.livejournal.com/) for betaing and being encouraging when my belief in this story was **very** low.  
> 

  
The river wound through the jungle, placid and slow like some kind of enormous snake, lazy and well fed. The forest on either side looked like an impregnable thicket, though he knew this was partially an illusion. Inside the trees, or so he'd been told, it was relatively sparser, the largest trees leaving the ground too shadowed for smaller ones.

It was a small boat, with no room for privacy, besides that found in one's own head, and perhaps that was why they didn't speak much. The man Shuei had hired to steer from the last town sang every now and then, quietly. It was in some dialect Sanzo didn't speak, though he could recognize a word here and there, probably ones borrowed from the common language of the area.

Shuei stared at the moving water, his face morose. The man had changed from their schooldays, when he'd been a lively, sociable person. Now his face was lined, and he seemed in turns apathetic or twitchy.

Well, a lot of things had changed since those days at school, Sanzo decided, stubbing out his cigarette against the side of the boat.

"This friend of yours...can he be trusted?" Shuei asked suddenly.

"Trusted with what, exactly?" Sanzo asked back.

Shuei gave him a smile, his face so stiff it looked more like a grimace. He glanced at the uninterested boatman, and leaned closer to Sanzo. He resisted the urge to lean away from Shuei's sour breath as the man whispered.

"It's quite a find, after all, something many would give their right hand for...and you said he was a scientist as well, didn't you?"

"No, just a teacher at a local school." A waste of intellect, as far as Sanzo was concerned, but he supposed Hakkai had good reason to hide in such a remote place. Reasons he was not going to tell Shuei, or anyone for that matter.

Shuei nodded.

"I see, that's good then..."

*

Later that day they finally reached the small school kept by Cho Hakkai, formerly known as Cho Gonou. The man himself was standing on the small wooden pier as they approached, a still, tall figure against the green shoreline.

"Careful, the wood can be slippery." Hakkai warned as Sanzo prepared to step out of the boat. Even with the warning, he wasn't entirely prepared for the wobbling of the floating pier.

"We've thought of building another one." Hakkai noted as they walked away.

He still spoke in a quiet, polite tone. Sanzo knew better than to take it for weakness, as would anyone if they took a good look at Hakkai's shuttered green eyes.

"We?" Sanzo asked. Hakkai's letters had seemed to imply he chose this location partially because it was virtually uninhabited, the locals living in small, scattered groups.

"Yes, myself and my colleague Sha Gojyo."

Sha Gojyo turned out to be a man approximately Hakkai's age, with long red hair and black eyes. He kept rubbing at them, mumbling something about an allergy. When Sanzo asked about his education, the man shrugged, and explained something vague before Hakkai promptly changed the subject.

It would have been quite suspicious, if Sanzo had given a damn.

Shuei still didn't appear to trust Hakkai, and showed it by stalking off to "take a walk in the forest" where he remained for most of the day. He returned in the evening, bitten by insects, but in a slightly better, if still nervous, mood.

Hakkai gave him a long, weighing look, and then his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

*

On one level, he knew it was a dream. Some analytical part of him knew there hadn't been quite as much blood in reality, for one.

Another part just saw the study as it had been, the dark wooden furniture, the tall desk which was forever covered in open books and papers and half finished translations of strange ancient texts.

The paperweight, a heavy piece of ancient melted glass, with its crazy patterns in green and brown and black. His foster father had got it as a gift when Sanzo was very young, and he'd always found it intriguing.

_"Did someone make it like that?"_

_"It's not certain, but it's likely it was made by some kind of...catastrophe. Similar things have been found elsewhere, though few as pretty as this."_

The paperweight was still on the table, then, sitting peacefully on papers spattered with red, throwing a long shadow in the evening sunlight. That was the thing Sanzo always remembered best, somehow. Standing frozen in the doorway of the study.

The red over white papers, with their lines of writing interrupted and unfinished. _That's not right_

*

He woke, not abruptly or with a shout locked in his throat, but simply feeling cold and displaced. From experience he knew he wasn't going to sleep more that night anyway, so Sanzo flung away the insect curtain and got up.

There was a long porch, running the length of the house, and he stepped out onto it, lighting a cigarette. The end glowed in the darkness, as he listened to the strange noises from the unseen forest.

As he walked forward, Sanzo noticed a light shining through a partially open window. He didn't believe in spying, but he did believe in knowledge, so he leaned against the wall.

"Goddamn contacts," a voice growled. The redhead, Gojyo.

Sanzo glanced over his shoulder. He could see Hakkai's back, and the other man facing the window. The lantern hanging from the roof left his face shadowed, but when he leaned back, the red colour of his eyes became apparent.

"It's unfortunate they irritate your eyes, but those two will only be staying for a few days."

That was Hakkai's voice.

Sanzo stood frozen, until the cigarette burned his fingers, and he dropped it with a curse. The window next to him opened more, and he and Hakkai stared at each other in the gloom. Hakkai's mouth was drawn tight.

"You heard.” It wasn't a question, so Sanzo didn't answer.

"Look...come inside?"

Sanzo shook his head slowly.

"In the same room as _that_? No way."

Hakkai's face hardened more.

"I'm not talking about this out there. But I'll send him away if you insist," he said at last, coldly.

A moment later, sitting on the other side of a table from a grave Hakkai, Sanzo wondered if he should have brought his gun. Hakkai was dangerous when he was protective, as he well knew.

"So, that's the reason you moved here. I suppose the local population hasn't ever heard of the Red Fever. Or know how to recognize a Death Bringer."

Hakkai gave him an absolutely freezing look.

"Do not say that word in my house ever again," he said very quietly. "Besides, it was never proved that all the hybrids carry the virus, merely that they had immunity. And I already have immunity against it myself."

"So you're all set unless you let him swap any body fluids with the locals," Sanzo mumbled, leaning against the back of his chair.

Hakkai nodded, giving him a cool smile. When he spoke it was sharp and precise.

"I don't intend to."

Sanzo raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. He already knew Hakkai was a pervert, after taking his sister as his lover and almost killing his parents after her suicide...why, this might almost be considered an improvement. He supposed whomever he...spent his time with, it hardly mattered in this far-off corner of the world anyways.

"Whatever, it's none of my business."

There was a long silence, in which Sanzo pulled out another cigarette, and Hakkai stared into the night. When at last Hakkai spoke again, there was a softer, almost worried note in his voice.

"Your traveling companion...do you have any reason to believe he's using narcotics?" he asked.

Sanzo frowned, and then shrugged.

"Maybe. As long as he remembers the destination it hardly matters."

"I would not go out there with someone unreliable," Hakkai told him.

"Like I said, that's irrelevant."

Hakkai sighed, in that annoying way that meant he thought someone was acting childishly. Sanzo ground his teeth and pretended not to notice.

"You're still completing his work, aren't you?" Hakkai said softly.

Damn him! Didn't he know Sanzo didn't want to talk about it.

He made to step out, but Hakkai caught his arm. Sanzo almost snarled at him, not at all reassured by the soft smile ( _pitying_ smile, damn the man to hell).

"In that case, I can only wish you luck. I hope you find what you're looking for, someday soon."

*

They left a day later, carrying their own baggage, because Shuei had refused to even consider hiring anyone else. Not that Sanzo really cared for any extra people on the trip, himself. Whatever he might have thought after carrying the heavy back bag the first day was neither here nor there.

By the third day he was pretty much used to his aching shoulders as it was.

It was a four-day walk to Shuei's find - a cave, one side of which had apparently recently broken down.

"I think there might have been a mudslide years ago, which sealed off the cave and protected the writing."

Shuei looked on expectantly as Sanzo traced the faded words, painted on a high wall, about as high from the floor as a grown, tall man might reach. Smallish rows of text apparently painted onto the wall, about as neatly as possible on the uneven surface, with larger, more haphazard words some over the first. Under and around those two were more or less unintelligible scribbles and scratches.

"Think you can interpret it?" Shuei asked.

"Partially, perhaps. I think I see three different languages. It'll take a while, in any case."

He was right. One was the ancient written form of Inglee. The two others...Sanzo could feel a shake starting in his hands, and forced them to be still.

Shuei, who'd been studying the floor of the cave, looked up and walked over to him.

"Any of them familiar? Besides the obvious one, I mean?"

"It seems like basically the same text in Inglee, a peculiar dialect of old Espanola and..."

Shuei grinned, for a fleeting moment looking like he had in Sanzo's distant childhood.

"That it? The one Koumyou was looking for?"

"Maybe."

Sanzo stared at his notes, unwilling to believe it. The writing did have some resemblance to the language his foster father had tried to parse together as his life's work. He looked at the wall, and the the jumble of black letters.

"Too bad we can't ever publish the find." Shuei said.

"What?"

Shuei turned to look at him, with an unreadable expression.

"I'm might be no expert, but even I can read Inglee enough to get the point of the text. It's an entreaty to a higher power, isn't it? _Save me from this..._ "

" _Unholy fire and death_ ," Sanzo finished calmly. "I didn't take you for a believer," he added sharply.

Shuei looked haunted again, his eyes dark in the shadowed cave.

"Things change," he said bleakly. "Isn't it enough, having the knowledge yourself?"

"That's not the point. I had it already, this is just proof."

Shuei didn't answer, just stalked away. Sanzo frowned after him. He stood up and eyed the text on the wall critically. Clearly much more of the Espanola there, thought he couldn't translate all of of it, not without further reference. While the Inglee part was a rather standard and imprecise rambling, as far as he could see, who knew what the other text contained.

It seemed unlikely it would have any forbidden details...anything of that knowledge which had supposedly destroyed the Old World. But then again, something about the neat rows of text, recorded in three languages...it looked familiar. Scientific.

*

In hindsight, Sanzo supposed he'd noticed it already while he was recording the find, but was too absorbed in other things at that point. Once they packed up and started heading back though...he couldn't ignore the feeling any more.

"Someone's watching us," he said at last.

Shuei didn't turn back. He'd been quiet since their last argument about publishing the find.

"Animals in the forest, probably," he snapped.

Somehow Sanzo wasn't so certain of that. He took to keeping his gun in his clothes. It was a rather odd weapon, modelled after an antique find, apparently. Complete opposed to the Code of Safety, enough to be highly illegal. This was the reason Sanzo had told himself when he took it after Koumyou’s death. What people would have thought of his foster father if they'd found it.

But it had been a gift, he'd said, from a friend.

_"What's it used for?"_

_"Killing things, I believe. Or defending them, if one wishes to be more optimistic. But mostly for killing, I suppose."_

_"So it's the sort of thing the Code of Safety was made to get rid of'? Why would anyone want to reconstruct a thing like that?_

_"Well, curiosity is a powerful force."_

Sanzo was pulled out of his thoughts by the eerie call of...something, probably a bird of some kind. It was hard to judge in such a place, but he hadn't so far found any of the landmarks he'd tried to keep in mind on the way.

He pulled out his compass and frowned at it.

"You're taking a different way or what?" he asked Shuei, who merely shrugged.

"Maybe."

"Look, I get..." _that you've suddenly become a crazed zealot_ "that we don't see eye to eye on all things, but this is getting ridiculous. What the hell is your problem?"

Shuei swirled around, his face a tense mask.

"Nothing. I just would have thought that Koumyou's death might have taught you something."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Sanzo hissed.

" _He_ dabbled with things and people better left alone, and look what happened to him."

" _Shut up!_ you have no right to..."

Shuei shook his head, face contorting into an awful parody of a smile.

"No, I don't. I'm sorry."

Then he turned around and started walking forward, too fast for Sanzo to say anything. Maybe it was a good thing; he'd been pretty close to punching the only person who could lead him out of this accursed forest.

*

He woke to someone calling his name. Not because he sensed the attack, because it took him completely by surprise, despite everything. There was a dull pain spreading out from a blow that felt like it might have been to his heart, but that hadn't woken him either.

Someone had called for him, Sanzo thought in that frozen, elongated moment as he pulled out his gun. The gun he'd never pointed at a living being, but which felt familiar in that second he pulled the trigger.

One second.

He clutched his shoulder (shoulder, not heart, but it still hurt like nothing ever) his breathing loud in the darkness. The attacker lay still, no such sound from him.

It seemed like an eternity before Sanzo managed to pull out his matches, and even longer before he could light one, the fragile sticks breaking in his shaking hands. Somehow, he wasn't entirely surprised by the face the light revealed.

Shuei did look surprised, though. He'd always look surprised now...

Sanzo pressed his face into his hands, smothering the sound that tried to rise up. It felt like laughter, which couldn't be right. Shouldn't be.

He'd never realized how easy it was. Killing a person.

*

As it turned out, a map wasn't of much use in a jungle. There were no roads, not even paths, only trees and more trees. And insects, thought he wasn't sure any more if the insistent buzzing in his ears was from them or from the fever and the dull stabbing pain in the wound.

It wouldn't heal under the makeshift bandage he'd made. Infected probably. It was the poison...no wait, no poison. Where did that thought even come from?

He lay on the damp ground, staring up through the distant foliage, at the slightest impression of sunlight. Almost like being underground. His lips were parched, and somehow in his hazy mind he imagined being in a desert.

He saw a parching sunlight through his eyelids, and the open, merciless sky, with a single black shadow crossing it. It swooped down, landed on his chest, the small pressure seeming too much for his laboring lungs.

"Not dead yet you bastard..." He growled, and a voice answered.

But it wasn't the harsh caw of a bird, but a human voice, clear and almost melodious. Calling him again, it seemed. He would have reached out, if it weren't for the lead weight in his limbs, dragging him down and down into the darkness...

*

There were flames, he thought. Burning him up for eternity. He might have surrendered to them, if it wasn't for that insistent voice, calling, still calling, even when he wished it would just be quiet.

Really, he ~~had~~ to get better just so he could tell whoever it was to shut up, Sanzo thought in a moment of near lucidity.

Still, it felt like it an eternity before the flames cooled, and a distant, all enveloping tiredness took him. That one felt like water, pulling him under, the pressure making it hard to breathe. He might have let himself go, let himself sink into the deep rest calling for him, but again that other voice was more insistent.

So in the end, he struggled back to the surface, body aching and mind still hazy. As were his eyes when he finally opened them, the dim light in...wherever he was stabbing at them.

He blinked to clear them, and the pattern of light settled into the image of a simple roof made of...leaves? Or possibly some sort of large grass plant, Sanzo couldn't care less.

He let his eyes close again, but then there was the sound of a voice calling out something, and soon after that some sort of rustling sound.

Warily, he looked again, and was startled to find two eyes right above his own. Two large, yellowish brown eyes. The owner of said eyes was smiling like an idiot, as Sanzo could see when he sat back. He was also babbling something, but Sanzo couldn't make any sense of the language.

Dammit, he was still too ill for this, he decided, closing his eyes against it all.

If this stranger...or however many there were – he was somehow quite sure the first voice hadn't been this boy's – well, if they intended to kill him, they could have just left him to die in the forest. And if they had other ill intentions, he'd deal with it...later.

*

Sanzo gritted his teeth and tried not to snarl at the pitying looks directed towards him. Pitying, and slightly wary, because even without a common language, his temper hadn't exactly made him many friends.

Even Sanzo had to admit, the villagers were still surprisingly patient with him and his lack of skills useful in this place. Unfortunately it only made him more annoyed at the whole situation.

The girl closest to him sighed, and reached out a hand to direct his in the weaving these people seemed intent on teaching him, and Sanzo _did_ snarl at her, snatching his hand away.

She frowned at him and said something he didn't understand.

"Problem?" A voice said suddenly, and Sanzo looked up to the only person he could speak with in the village.

"They're trying to teach me basket weaving. I don't want to learn it." Sanzo explained, and Goku tilted his head quizzically.

"But you weren't good at...all the other stuff either," he said at last.

Sanzo told himself the boy didn't mean to sound insulting, it was just his incomplete grasp of the language...but he still wanted to smack him.

"Too bad, but I don't intend to stay here, so it shouldn't be a problem for too long," he snapped.

Goku got that annoyingly concerned look again, like a sheepdog whose sheep were wandering too far.

"Not good," he said, shaking his head.

Sanzo wasn't even sure why he found it necessary to argue with this boy who was barely older than a child...oh, right, he was the only one who could advise him the way back.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to stall a headache.

"Look, I'm perfectly fine already. Just...point the right way, and I'll go."

The boy just shook his head, his bright eyes set and stubborn.

Sanzo hissed out a curse, and stood up, stalking away in a random direction. He'd only got to the edge of the small collection of earthen huts clinging to the mountain side, when Goku caught up with him.

The boy took a firm hold of his sleeve, his eyes almost pleading now. He started speaking, and then realized it was in the wrong language.

"No...don't go," he said, stumbling over the foreign words in his haste.

"The hell do you care!" Sanzo hissed, a strange feeling of claustrophobia seizing him, never mind they were on an open mountainside, with the sky wide above and below.

Goku shrugged helplessly.

Sanzo tried to shake his hold off, but in vain. The boy just got hold of his hand instead, petting it like he was some spooked animal.

"Stop that." Sanzo said sharply, and Goku looked down, as if surprised by what he'd been doing. Yeah right.

"Seriously, what do you want from me?" Sanzo asked, a question he'd asked many times before, and never gotten a satisfactory answer to.

The boy looked down, biting his lip, and the seemed to brighten. He started walking even further away from the village, tugging Sanzo with him from the hold he still had on his wrist. Sanzo followed reluctantly.

They stopped at a cliff above the village, and Goku sat down on the short grass, patting the place next to him.

"What now?" Sanzo asked sourly.

Goku rolled his eyes, but gestured towards the sight before them.

Sanzo looked. The sun was setting, painting the whole mountainside a soft rose colour. The village looked peaceful, with only a few people going about here and there. All in all, it looked very picturesque.

"Pretty. So what?" Sanzo said drily.

Goku just stared at him for a while, looking worried and hopeful.

"You could stay," he said finally, in a soft voice.

"No, there's nothing for me here."

Goku frowned, obviously having trouble finding the right words again.

"It...is not safe, out there."

Sanzo rubbed at the mostly healed wound in his shoulder. It hurt occasionally. Maybe it always would, with his luck.

"I know that," he said sharply. "That's not the point."

Goku sighed, and mumbled something in his own language.

"What was that?"

But he just shook his head.

"There's a...a festival in a while. Stay until that?"

Sanzo didn't care about festivals either, but it was surprisingly difficult to say no to this person.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Later that night, Sanzo was trying to remember why he'd let this troublesome child wrap himself all around him again.

Not because he'd saved his life, since Sanzo had hardly asked for it. Certainly not because it felt nice in any way, with the amount the other shifted in his sleep. Sanzo figured the only reason he didn't get kicked was being too close for it. No, It was just _that_ cold at night. That was why.

*

The day of the festival came. Sanzo sat on the sidelines, not feeling very festive. He'd never much cared for parties of any kind, let alone with people he didn't even know. People who treated him like a child.

At least there was alcohol, even if it tasted like...something he'd hopefully never drunk. He peered suspiciously into his glass, hoping it didn't _actually_ contain anything too disgusting. Besides, the more he drank it, the less he noticed the taste.

"Drink too much, going to fall asleep," Goku chided cheerfully as he sprawled next to him, skin glistening with perspiration. He'd been dancing, and had taken his shirt off, even though the air wasn't that warm. Really, it wasn't.

Sanzo told himself he only felt too warm because of the alcohol.

"So," he mumbled.

Goku shrugged.

"Dance too?" he asked brightly.

"No," Sanzo stated flatly.

Goku laughed, for no conceivable reason. It was a bright, bubbling sound, which nevertheless gave Sanzo a strange, hollow feeling in his chest. Knowing he'd never hear it again when he left. He frowned and took another deep drink of the foul liquid. It burned, but at least the burn masked that other feeling.

And also made him feel light-headed, damn it. This stuff had to be a lot more effective than anything he'd drunk before.

"Told you," Goku said softly, from somewhere a lot closer than Sanzo had expected.

"I'm not drunk. Ever," he mumbled, even though he had a distant feeling he wasn't quite as vertical as before.

"Stand up," someone told him, in an affectionate voice. He tried to, and stumbled, leaning harder against the other person.

When was the last time he was this drunk? Must've been back at university...in the pleasant haze caused by the alcohol it was difficult to keep in mind this was another place and time.

Easier to remember when they stumbled into the hut he slept in, with the smell of earth and hay and leather from the bedding strong in the air. Goku helped him down, and Sanzo reckoned distantly this would be very embarrassing once he sobered up.

He closed his eyes and waited until the room stopped spinning. Goku was still there when it did, sitting next to him, with this strange little smile on his face.

"What're you staring at?" Sanzo asked suspiciously.

"You," the boy said simply, and Sanzo scowled at him more.

"When you go, I can't," Goku said solemnly.

Sanzo looked away. This...crush the boy seemed to have on him was just plain annoying.

"Come here."

Goku tilted his head, and Sanzo growled, and yanked him closer by the neck. Somehow, as drunk as he was, Sanzo managed to get on top of him.

"Listen, you... _stop_ ogling me already," he growled.

He expected to be thrown off at any moment, knowing Goku was stronger than him, but he just lay there, eyes wide with surprise. His face was flushed, his breathing quick and his mouth open slightly.

Sanzo's eyes seemed drawn to it, and before he'd made any kind of conscious decision, he was suddenly kissing the boy. Their breath mingled, and someone made a low whimpering sound. Had to be Goku, Sanzo decided distantly.

This was wrong. Worse, it was undignified. But Goku seemed neither ashamed nor afraid, spreading his legs so he could grind his hard-on against Sanzo’s. Suddenly there was way too much clothing between them. This might be undignified, but Sanzo would be damned if he was coming in his trousers.

Which was going to happen if he couldn’t open the damned buttons that were not co-operating.

Now kneeling over Goku, Sanzo happened to glance up and saw the boy was licking his kiss-reddened lips. An image of his cock between those lips flashed across Sanzo's mind. Would he take it with the same relish he seemed to eat everything?

Sanzo hissed in frustration, needing to plunder that mouth right then, with his tongue if nothing else. Thankfully Goku was good with buttons for someone who didn’t wear any, and managed to work Sanzo’s trousers open. His clever hand curled around Sanzo’s cock right after, stroking maddeningly lightly.

Sanzo couldn’t hold back his moan, his hips bucking into the boy’s hand as if of their own volition. He glared at Goku, who just _smiled_ , like a cat who'd got the cream Damn him. Sanzo tried to close his eyes from the sight of him, unable to stop the stupid sounds he was making. He couldn't stop his body from striving for the orgasm it was so close to either.

He came hard, so hard for a moment his mind went hazy, body floating in the overwhelming sense of satisfaction. He came back to himself to find Goku kissing him, having somehow rolled them over. He was grinding his hips against Sanzo, clearly very close.

Sanzo managed to shift his leg between Goku’s thighs, not having energy to help him otherwise, and the boy moaned thankfully. After a moment he stilled, shaking, and then slumped on Sanzo.

It was sticky, and Goku was slightly too heavy and warm, but Sanzo just couldn’t be bothered to push him away. He managed to pull a woollen sheet over them at least, not wanting to give anyone more to look at than was any business of theirs. Then he could succumb to the sleep already tugging at his mind.

The next morning, Sanzo woke up alone, and for a moment he wondered if he'd either imagined everything or if things were going to be extremely awkward now. Then Goku barged in in his usual way to bring him breakfast.

"Good morning. I said you'd like the festival, didn't I?"

Sanzo stared at him in sheer astonishment at his nerve. When he kept staring, Goku went slowly very red and glanced away.

"Uh, I mean...well, it wasn't that bad, right?"

He looked back at Sanzo's bark of laughter. What else could one do in such a situation, really?

*

"You're what?"

Sanzo looked from Goku to the villagers sending him on his way. One looked calmly determined, the others resigned.

"Coming with you. As a guide." Goku repeated, beaming at him.

Sanzo had a feeling he'd left off informing him until the last moment on purpose, just so...just so he wouldn't have time to list all the reasons why it wasn't a good idea.

"The way is long," Goku explained.

It was true. True that he might not find the way himself, no matter how well it had been explained to him. There was no reason to say no. Except, a treacherous voice whispered, that you do not want to say goodbye again, when it might be even more difficult.

But that was not a valid reason, so Sanzo nodded grimly.

*

Goku had explained it, a month ago when Sanzo had finally awakened from his fever. Well, he'd explained after they'd discovered they did in fact share a common language. Apparently Goku had been born in another village, one that had been visited by foreigners occasionally. He and some other villagers had been on a trade journey when they found Sanzo.

When he'd asked why Goku had gone to all the bother of keeping him alive, the boy had spouted some nonsense about destiny.

 _"There's no such thing,"_ he'd said, and the boy had shrugged, with an expression as if he were humouring an insistent child who claimed the grass was not green.

_"Perhaps not."_

Still, even if he didn't know the terrain, Sanzo knew when he was being led astray. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...

As they started climbing _upwards_ yet again, he stopped. The wind blew sharply on the mountainside, more noticeable when one stopped moving.

Goku turned back to look at him, his face attempting nonchalance. He was an awful liar.

"Where are we going?"

"To the river. The...the learning place."

Sanzo shook his head. His voice was colder than the wind when he spoke.

" _Where are we going._ "

Goku's face settled, became still and stubborn. Not threatening, but as bendable as rock nevertheless.

Sometimes, Sanzo felt as if they'd known each other for a long time, perhaps longer than he'd known anyone. And sometimes he remembered Goku was a virtual stranger, and that he did not trust strangers. Both feelings might have scared him, if he were prone to fear.

"You told me that you seek...things to be found, no, known?"

"Knowledge?"

Goku smiled, briefly.

"Yes! There is a place near here, a place where knowledge is kept."

Was that supposed to be an explanation? And why was he following anyway?

Suddenly his thoughts were derailed by something. The rock wall ahead, one that had so far been hidden from view, was full of holes. It reminded Sanzo of a sandbank he'd seen in his childhood, one that housed sand martins.

That is, if sand martins were much larger and could dig into stone.

Goku turned, his solemn face framed by the dark stone.

"Here is the place I was born," he said.

*

The night was falling when they arrived, so they stopped there, outside the rock wall.

Sanzo walked around a little, and noticed how some of the doorways looked old, and some appeared newer. The old ones were made in a square shape, though time had chipped at them. The new ones, on the other hand, were rougher looking.

There were also wooden structures, with stairs leading to the doorways higher up from the ledge they were standing on.

Goku didn't suggest making camp inside any of the doorways burrowed into stone, and neither did Sanzo. As it became darker, he got the irrational feeling they were staring at him, like the empty eyeholes of a skull. Goku glanced at them, and then shivered, inching closer to the small fire they'd made.

"What happened," Sanzo asked at last.

Goku looked down, and his eyes were left in shadow by the dancing firelight.

"We lived here. Not as many as would have fit. It's said there were more, before."

He shrugged, before continuing.

"There was illness, sometimes. Some people survived it, some didn't. The very young and the old...often did not."

He looked up, his expression uncomfortable, and yet as painfully honest as it always was.  
"I will tell more tomorrow?"

"And then you'll take me to the school?" Sanzo asked.

Goku nodded.

"Yes. Then."

Even after the fire had died, neither of them slept, just lay in the dark. Their breathing was the only human sound in this desolate place, and Sanzo had the eerie feeling of being the only person left on earth. Well, him and Goku.

"Sanzo," Goku's voice called out from the darkness.

"What?"

They were lying close together, so the hand that reached out didn't entirely surprise him. It held his tightly, and he wondered if Goku was feeling it too. Like the world...or perhaps only theirs, was holding its breath in wait for some unknown thing.

He fell asleep, still holding onto Goku's hand.

*

He woke up to find Goku staring towards east, where the sun was barely visible yet.

“We should go,” he said quietly.

They ventured inside the mountain. It was obvious people had lived here, not too long ago. Goku walked without looking at anything too closely, his mouth in a tight line.

After walking through a seemingly endless maze of hallways, always tilting slightly upwards, they came to a large chamber. There were several doorways in the room, and a circular staircase in the middle. Beams of light from holes in the roof illuminated the walls.

The walls were covered with writing.

“From what you said, of the thing you look for, I think you can read this,” Goku said quietly.

Sanzo turned to look at him, sharply.

“Can you?”

“No, but I know what it says.”

Goku closed his eyes, and his brow furrowed slightly. While he spoke, Sanzo tried to follow the text on the wall. Listening to Goku, he could almost interpret it simultaneously.

_”Long ago, there was an age of metal and fire. The people built their houses of it, and moved in carriages built from metal, and moved by fire._

_In time, burned by the flame of ambition, they even built a metal bird, which could fly as far as to the moon, burning brightly as a falling star._

_But they did not know of a Raven who slept there, on the dark side of the moon. Woken by the glitter of the burning metallic bird, it followed it back down on Earth._

_The humans and their fascination with fire amused the Raven greatly. It saw the two great kingdoms of the East and the West, and how proud they were of all they’d achieved._

_The Raven smiled to itself, and flew to the Eastern kingdom. It bowed to the King of East, and said: “What a beautiful place you have built here, like a diamond. But…I have seen the Kingdom of West, and surely you must envy their golden sparkle and their warmth, in this cold, dark land?”_

_“We can make our own fire,” the King of East said, but the spark of envy was set in his heart._

_Next, the Raven returned to the Western Kingdom, and found its king. To him it said: “The King of East has said he will build a great fire, greater even than the sun. Surely you must be afraid?”_

_“Fear? We can build a fire far greater than anything he can,” King of the West answered, but he was now afraid of the Kingdom of East in his heart._

_And thus, they built their fires, these two great kingdoms, until one day the fires became so bright and fierce, they set the whole world on fire. And as the Kingdoms of East and West and all the others burned, the Raven crowed in triumph._

_The metal bird, who had watched it all, asked; “Tell me, what is it you have won? Will you not burn as well now?”_

_But the Raven said: “I do not care about winning or losing. It is merely the great extent of the foolishness of man that amuses me. And even if I burn, I will return in time, to see if mankind has grown any wiser. But I do not think it will.”_

_The metal bird sighed, tucking in its melting wings._

_“Ah, we will see then, my friend. But do not forget that a strong tree may grow from the ashes of many others.”_

_And then all was done, but for the fire._

Goku’s last words left an echoing silence. Echoed by the empty rooms, and by the letters marring the stone walls like scars as well.

“This is the room of the Story. Of when…how the time of metal and fire ended.” Goku said. He was shuffling his feet now that he was done, suddenly looking like a nervous schoolboy reciting a poem, rather than some great oracle. Still, something told Sanzo it wasn’t over yet.

Sanzo followed his gaze to the stairs.

“There- there is something on the roof,” Goku said, suddenly looking very serious again.

“What is it?”

Goku shook his head.

“I can not explain. We must see.”

It was useless arguing with Goku, so Sanzo followed him up the stairs.

On the roof, there was only a small platform, with a stone table on one side. Above it was an arch, made from iron. It had rusted a dull red, like dried blood.

From where Sanzo stood, directly before the table, the sun was almost in the middle of the arch. It all gave him an unpleasantly trapped feeling.

“So, where do you have the knife?” he asked, drily.

Goku’s eyes widened. In the direct sunlight, they were a near inhuman yellow, like molten gold. But Sanzo would not back away, even if only one of them were to leave this place.

Goku didn’t look away from his eyes either, his face clouded with…not indecision, but that strange worry that had been there since the first time Sanzo had seen him. Somehow, it had never quite seemed right.

An odd dimming in the light drew Sanzo’s attention. For a moment he thought it was a cloud, but the sky was empty and blue. It was as if a shadow was drawn over the sun, leaving it a slowly thinning sliver.

A hand on his arm startled him, to say the least. Goku could move quietly when he wanted to.

Goku didn’t even flinch at the gun suddenly pressed to his forehead. His hand kept gripping Sanzo’s arm, more as if seeking reassurance, rather than to keep him still.

His eyes seemed drawn to the darkened sun as well.

“He returned,” Goku said, his voice tense.

“Who?”

“The Raven.”

He said it as if it was obvious.

“We knew, always, that there would be an end, like all the other times of the world have ended. A star fell; it was seen in the sky on many nights. And the Raven followed it, and death followed him.”

Goku looked down, and then glanced at Sanzo from the corner of his eye.

“We know that, it was…told before, and also that-”

Sanzo recognized it suddenly, the story. All this time it had seemed familiar. The one Koumyou had been trying to translate when he died.

“The new sun would step down on earth, right? I won’t be a willing sacrifice, though.” Sanzo said sharply, and yet didn’t step back, couldn’t bring himself to be wary.

Goku shook his head and smiled.

“No. I thought of it, but…” He glanced towards the now fully blackened sun. “I would rather never see light again.”

Sanzo didn’t believe in destiny, or sacrifices, but Goku did. Perhaps that was why he didn’t resist when the younger man wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. Like the world was ending.

For that one moment, Sanzo wondered if it really was. If so, he decided, it could wait a moment.

Goku held him almost tight enough to hurt, but his lips were soft and generous. Hungry too, as if he wanted everything and right then. And when Sanzo bit his lip in reprimand, he whimpered as if even that wasn’t _enough_.

“Greedy brat,” Sanzo grumbled between kisses, and Goku let out a small breathy laugh.

It was then that they noticed how the light had changed. Goku turned his face towards the returned sunlight, and then back at Sanzo, as if to ask whether he was seeing the same thing. There was a stupid look of amazement on his face.

“It…it came back,” he whispered.

Sanzo huffed.

“Of course it did. I told you, there’s no destiny or any of that crap.”

Goku let out a deep breath, and then smiled, if possible more brightly than Sanzo had ever seen him do. Like an invisible weight had suddenly been lifted from him.

“No, perhaps there is not.”

*

Hakkai was not waiting for him this time. Instead, there was a young albino man with a bow and arrow aimed at them.

“Stop! I warn you, there is poison in this arrow,” the man said flatly.

Goku tensed, but Sanzo gestured for him to stay still, while surreptitiously reaching for his gun. Before the situation could get any tenser, however, the door of the school opened and Hakkai peered out.

“Goujun, don’t shoot, it’s a friend!” he called out as he stepped to the yard.

“What’s with the new approach? Troublesome students?” Sanzo asked.

Hakkai smiled stiffly and shrugged.

“I suppose you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Apparently something is going on in the city, some kind of conflict. There has been some trouble even this far in the woods. Not much so far, but we’ve decided better safe than sorry. I have tried to tell Mr. Goujun his help is not necessary.”

At the last, Hakkai gave a mildly chastising look at the man he’d referred to as Goujun. He merely blinked back, and Hakkai sighed.

“But he hasn't been listening, apparently.”

A very small smile appeared on Goujun’s face. It looked almost eerie.

“Hey, can I look at that bow?” Goku asked in the subsequent silence. “It looks like it takes some strength to use, can I try?”

His eyes were practically shining, and Goujun looked slightly perturbed. Ha, that taught him to aim weapons at people, at least.

*

Three years later:

Sanzo frowned at the page of writing in front of him. Last page of the book “A Study of a Lost Language from the Western Continent” or as his editor insisted it should be called “Words from Way Back.”

Sanzo still thought it sounded ludicrous. He’d have to find a less aggravating editor if the man didn’t stop being such a fool. His…flirting was especially annoying.

Not to mention he kept insisting Sanzo should write another book about his own experiences in the jungle. As if he wanted to remember that stuff.

Then again, now that he’d completed Koumyou’s work, what else was there to do? Sanzo stood up, cringing at the painful crick in his back, and stepped over to the window. It was a cloudy, dark day outside, only made more so by the dirty window pane.

He pushed it open and lit a cigarette, slumping into the seat left in front of the window. It creaked, and Sanzo was once again reminded why he hadn’t gotten another editor yet.

He actually _needed_ to sell the manuscript. And annoying as Mr. Grouse was, he was willing to help with that.

Sanzo’s face soured even more as he contemplated exactly why Hazel Grouse was so eager to be of assistance. Damn pervert.

One more reason why he didn’t want to write an account of his so-called adventure. Might give that man ideas…besides, he really didn’t want to remember that time.

Maybe there was a divine being of some kind out there. If so, it had to be a vengeful bitch. Probably with a bone to pick with him.

He smiled grimly at himself. Was he actually assuming his life would have been _easier_ if he’d managed to take Goku with him? How foolish of him.

How many years had it been now, three or four? Hakkai had advised them to stay, or at least wait until the city calmed down. But Sanzo knew enough about the local politics to know that this conflict wouldn’t calm down anytime soon, and if it got worse, the country might get cut off from the eastern continent entirely. He might never get back home to finish his work, or so he’d thought at the time. Goku had, predictably, insisted on following.

If only they hadn’t got separated in the throng of people trying to get to the last boat away from the burning capital. If only Sanzo hadn’t noticed too late that they were leaving and he was alone…but it was foolish to think like that. What had happened had happened.

Goku was strong. Stupid, but hopefully not stupid enough to get himself killed, even if a foreign city gone mad. Sanzo had seen far too many nightmares over the years of what _could_ have happened to him.

A knock on the door interrupted his morose thoughts.

“What is it?” He called out, and his landlady opened the door and peered around it.

“You have visitors. A bunch of them, odd looking folks,” she said, in the slightly accusatory tone she always used.

Sanzo rolled his eyes.

“Well, send them up.”

“Oy, come up here!” the woman could be heard yelling.

There was the sound of quick footsteps pounding up the stairs, and the old crone telling the unknown person off for “trying to run down respectable people in their own home.” Sanzo didn't hear a reply, only the footsteps coming closer, until the visitor reached his door and barged in.

They stared at each other for a frozen moment. Then Goku practically lunged at him, babbling something that made no sense to Sanzo at all.

He was still in a state of…surprise, when Hakkai stepped in more calmly, accompanied by that pet Death Bringer of his, who was wearing a ridiculous pair of smoked eyeglasses this time. Hakkai beamed at Sanzo, to whom Goku was still clinging. Whether Sanzo was holding onto him too was surely irrelevant.

"What are you doing here?” Sanzo asked, as soon as he was sure the words wouldn’t come out wrong.

Hakkai smiled, as he always did.

“There was an opportunity to travel, and we thought it might be nice to see the old country after such a long time. Also, Goku was eager to see you again.”

“No kidding,” Sanzo mumbled. He still couldn’t make himself let go, for some reason.

He had a feeling things might become rather more complicated from now on. For one, he’d have to move somewhere that would house two people. The strangest thing though…none of it seemed to worry him in the least.

“Oy, you,” he told Goku, who gave him a questioning look.

“ _Never_ get lost like that again, get it?”

Goku grinned, and it was bright as ever, annoyingly bright.

“No, not ever.”  
 

  
 

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  To be honest, when I got the prompt, my first thought was...well, after going yay over the requested pairing, I panicked a bit. Because, well, my knowledge of tribal cultures is...not that deep. And I certainly didn't want to get it all wrong in an offensive way. >_>;
> 
> So, after doing a bit of research on Peru and the native cultures there...I ended up drawing some inspiration from there, and also setting the story far far off in the future. I'3  
> A bit cheap, I admit, but...well, it also gave me free hands to mix things up a bit more in general, which was sort of fun. >3>; 


End file.
